


Element of Change

by Tashilover



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Elementary
Genre: Blood Bending, Crossover, Fusion, Water bending, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1999350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock loved to watch Watson water bend. </p><p> </p><p>An Avatar the Last Airbender fusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Element of Change

Sherlock loved watching Watson water bend. In the years past he has some seen some impressive benders, masters with decades under their belts, but watching Watson in particular was a treat for him. Whenever he heard her practicing, he would drop everything he was doing to watch her.

"You know, you can join me."

Sherlock hummed. "Not a bender. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"It's exercise," Watson said as she moved her arms back and forth, pulling and stretching the water before her. "It's meditation."

"I get enough exercise with my chi-blocking techniques. And watching you _is_ meditation. Water bending is so elegant, so smooth, it's like poetry in motion."

Watson flushed under the praise.

"But your fighting stances are terrible."

Watson dropped her hands. The water fell back into the bucket she brought down from the tub. "I was trained to heal. Not fight."

"You should learn to do both," Sherlock insisted. "The work I do is dangerous, Watson. It would be quite beneficial for you to learn a few techniques in case such a situation arises. I know a number of water bender fighters whom I can get in contact with. Some of them are pro-benders, others are traditional masters. You can choose your own fighting style, if you wish."

"I'll think about it," Watson said, returning to her original stance.

Sherlock contiuned to watch her, but the awe expression he had on was gone.

 

 

 

 

 

It was not as if Watson didn't want to learn fighting skills. But she was the only one in her family who managed to inherit the water bending skills from their great grandfather, and thus, was burdered to carry on the family name.

She wasn't ungrateful. Due to having such a skill, by the time she entered college, her mastery over her water bending rivaled those who'd been in medicine for over thirty years. She saved lives, relieved pain, reduced infections. She was proud of her skill.

She had hoped to come to this decision on her own. But Sherlock apparently was going to force the issue.

" _Tell me where Sherlock Holmes is_."

Watson gasped and backed away, nearly stumbling on her heels. There was an _Equalist_ standing in the hallway. She has seen these guys on tv proclaiming equality, yet all the while bombing bending training sites and attacking high political benders in their home. She had no idea why they wanted Sherlock- he wasn't a bender- but she wasn't going to tell.

When the Equalist took a threatening step forward, she reached down to her water bottle to bend the water out. There was a sudden sharp pain across her arm and she cried out, dropping the water bottle. She didn't even see the Equalist move and already he blocked the chi to her bending. Her right arm laid dead at her side. She was defenseless. She tried to run.

There was a trip wire across the living room. It gave a cartoonish sound as she came into contact with it. She crashed to the floor with a heavy fwump.

The Equalist cocked his head, his expression hidden behind the mask that resembled too much like the gas masks from WWI. "That's pathetic."

Watson's mouth dropped. "Sherlock...?"

She got up, rubbing her dead arm as Sherlock pulled off his mask. Once he did, she smacked him across the shoulders. Hard. "Seriously? _Now_ you hit me?"

"What is your deal?!" She nearly yelled. "Dressing up like an Equalist? Do you want to give me a heart attack?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Watson. Your heart is perfectly fine." She felt like smacking him again. "The whole point of this exercise is to demonstrate your lack of fighting skills. Last week our home was invaded by a man who held you at gun point because YOU invited him in-"

"He was a White Lotus agent!"

"Right, as if they never commit wrong-doings!"

"Okay, I understand you want to protect me, but this isn't the way to do it!"

"Knowing you were in danger was especially hard for me, Watson. If you could learn just a few defensive moves, I would feel better bringing you on as my partner!"

Watson almost told him right there. "No," she hissed, pushing past him to grab at the mail she dropped. She didn't look at him as she trotted up the stairs.

 

 

 

 

 

Sherlock was rocking on his feet, a pleased little smile on his face. Watson couldn't help but be wary at his expression. Something was up.

Less than twenty-four hours ago Watson agreed to be Sherlock's partner. She had given him her conditions, and expected them to be followed through fully. "Why are you so cheerful?"

Sherlock pulled a bucket out from behind him. It was full of water. "Your fighting lessons start today."

Watson blinked. "No, I'm not."

"Oh, yes you are. You agreed to be my partner, and thus, you must learn to protect yourself. You have conditions regarding your involvement with this partnership. Guess what, so do I. It involves _you_ learning self-defense."

"I can't."

"Interesting choice of words," Sherlock said. "Why not? Pulled disc? Torn hamstring?"

"Because the United States government has told me not to."

That threw him. Sherlock first snorted in disbelief, then said, "What, seriously?"

"Look, Sherlock, what I am about to tell you is secret, okay? Nobody outside of this house knows about this, not even my parents. And the select few who do are sworn to secrecy."

"Watson, what-"

"I'm a blood bender."

There was a pause. It lasted long enough for Watson to hear ten seconds go by from the clock in the hallway. Then, in a jovial tone, Sherlock said, " _COOL._ "

Watson groaned.

"Oh my god," Sherlock squealed. "You have to show me."

"I should have known this would be your reaction."

"You can't blame me, Watson. Do you know how many blood benders are in the world? Because its been banned in so many countries, nobody really knows the numbers."

"And one of the reasons for that is because many blood benders are killed, Sherlock! As soon as people realize their abilities, they're killed before the next full moon."

"And yet you say the government has only banned you from talking about it."

"It happened in medical school. I learned I could... slow down blood loss. I could expel clots, and during full moons, I can do something as complicated as separating white cells."

" _During full moons?_ " Sherlock repeated. "You're saying you can blood bend without a full moon? Watson... that's amazing!"

"And that, that right there is why I am not allowed to learn to fight," Watson said, with grand urgency in her voice. "Right now, I am allowed to blood bend because I sworn an oath I would only use it during surgery, to help people. If I learn to fight, then I could learn to use blood bending as a means of violence. To many people, blood bending is just as bad as _rape_. If someone learns what I can do, figures out I am training myself to fight, it could be seen as an act of... war."

Sherlock took a step back. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He held it.

"Alright," he breathed out in a rush. "Fine, fine, I won't train you. I still think it's a silly idea, but I won't push you into something you don't want to do."

"Thank you."

"I still think it's idiotic."

"Okay."

"The dumbest thing I have ever heard."

"Ugh..."

 

 

 

 

 

The peace didn't last long. "I want you to blood bend me."

Watson gaped at him. "What?"

Sherlock made a show of pulling out a chair, sliding into it to look directly into Watson's eyes. "I want to know what blood bending feels like. I've heard numerous accounts, but the descriptions of it are so vague, I can't trust them. I want you to do it, so I'll know first hand."

"First of all, Sherlock, it's unlikely you'll ever be blood bend, and secondly, did I fail to inform you blood bending is highly illegal?"

"You use it in surgeries."

"I use it in small doses during surgeries, with permission from the government, under the supervision of the head surgeon. If they find out I was blood bending you-"

"Exciting, I know," Sherlock squealed. "May I also add, I am not doing this as a self-indulgent experiment, it actually has meaning. When I was nineteen, a woman had taken a knife and stabbed a random man seventeen times. Now, she claimed someone had blood bended her, and that the murder wasn't her fault."

Very few cases has ever used the blood bending excuse in their trials, as many could never prove who blood bended them or why. To accuse someone as a blood bender would be a very heinous accusation and has caused many water bending celebrities to lose their career over the rumor.

"Because she couldn't name who blood bended her," Sherlock continued. "Or why she was chosen by said blood bender, everyone concluded she had done the murder freely and they sentenced her to life in prison. Now, this woman was not a bender, she wasn't married to a bender, and she didn't have a history of violence. So there was a chance she was telling the truth, but was unable to show significance evidence of it. Very little research has been done on blood bending _because_ it's so highly illegal. With your help, Watson, I could save people like her. Or send them to jail. Either way, I'll be able to help the victim."

That struck a nerve. Never in her life has anyone asked her of such a request, to believe her blood bending was... helpful. Even with the few doctors who knew of her ability, sneered at her disdainfully as she slowed blood flow. When her patient died, one of her past teachers threatened to out her, accusing her of killing him by purposefully creating that blood clot.

She didn't want to feel like that again. "I-"

Sherlock grinned. "I'll meet you in the basement."

"The basement? Why?"

"No windows!"

 

 

 

 

 

Sherlock had already cleared out the boxes, the old furniture, the useless exercise equipment. The floor was clean, the dust swept away, and a small padded mat sat in the middle.

Watson scowled at it. "You knew I was going to say yes."

Sherlock didn't deny it. "I can't tell you how excited I am about this," he said, taking off his shirt.

"Why are you getting undressed?"

"I want to see how my skin and veins react. I have a video recorder set up-"

"NO. No videos. I'm already risking too much."

"Darn it. I knew you would say that, but I was hoping I was wrong... oh well. I can deal. Is there anything I should do beforehand? Stretch? Drink water?"

"Have you used the bathroom?"

"Yes!" He paused. "Wait, was I in danger of sullying myself?"

"Never heard of it happening, but who knows."

"Ohh! Future experiment!"

"Let's get past this first one before you start planning for future ones. I'm going to start small, okay? I'll move an arm, then we'll go from there."

"I'm ready." Sherlock shuffled in place, distributing his weight evenly.

Watson bit the inside of her cheek. She took a breath, held it, and as she slowly released it, she moved into a stance. "I'm going to bend now."

She twisted both of her hands, like she was turning large shower knobs. Sherlock's right arm shot straight out, startling a cry out of him. "GAH!"

Watson dropped her arms immediately. "Are you okay?"

"God!" Sherlock groaned, cradling his arm to his chest. "That was like striking my funny bone."

"Maybe we should stop-"

"No! We've only just begun. I was surprised is all." He shook his arms out, loosening up. "Okay, do it again."

Watson huffed. "Okay," she said, retaking her stance. "But you tell me when it becomes too much."

When his arm shot out again, Sherlock managed to suppress his cry of pain. He was gritting his teeth as he tried to take back control, fighting against Watson's power. "Now, my whole body!"

Frowning, Watson obliged him. He was unable to keep silent this time as he fell to the floor, his limbs shaking, veins popping, breathing so hard through his teeth, he was practically drooling. Every breath was a groan. After only ten seconds of enduring it, he yelled, "Stop, stop!"

Watson released her hold.

Immediately Sherlock crumbled in on himself, curling into a ball. "Are you okay?" Watson said worryingly, going to him. "Don't move, I'm going to get some water so I can heal-"

"I'm fine," Sherlock coughed.

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock, that went on too long."

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Now I know. God, that was like a needle piercing every inch of my skin, over and over. My muscles went numb, but it felt like my veins wanted to rip itself out of my body. I wasn't so much trying to fight against you, but fighting against the sensation that my body wanted to turn itself inside out."

Watson shook her head. "I'm not doing that again. No, Sherlock, I don't care if it's for science. That was... that felt awful. I don't ever want to do that to you or anybody else again."

Shakily, Sherlock reached out to her and patted her knee. "Don't make promises you can't keep."


End file.
